Sweet Disposition
by undiscoveredwriter
Summary: She told herself that she'd never give up but in her darkest hour, she found herself giving into the temptaton of death until a sudden light in the form of a mysterious and handsome vampire appeared from the darkness - and he saved her. B/Ju.
1. Anthem of Our Dying Day

**Title: **Sweet Disposition  
**Author: **undiscoveredwriter  
**Pairings:** Brooke/Julian.  
**Rating: **Teen/Adult; Adult content. Mild language.  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Tree Hill - or any other show mentioned.  
**Summary: **AU. In a small, mundane, dull town lives a brunette named Brooke Davis whose life feels like groundhog day but that all changes when a dark and mysterious man by the name of Julian Baker walks into the cafe where she works one day; taking her world by storm. Only one problem, Mr. Baker is a vampire.

**A/N: **This story has been spiralling for a while now so I thought I'd give it a go so I really hope you enjoy it. It's going to have elements from Twilight and True Blood but it _is_ in fact a One Tree Hill fanfiction. The tite of this chapter is a song by Story Of The Year.

* * *

**Chapter One**

_**Anthem Of Our Dying Day**_

_the sky will cry_

_the blackest tears tonight_

_and this is the moment that I live for_

_I can smell the ocean air_

_and here I am_

_pouring my heart on these rooftops_

_just a ghost to the world_

_that's exactly_

_exactly what I need_

Brooke Davis was her name.

It was simple, nice, easy to remember but no one did; no one that she knew of anyway.

She thought of herself as the person that people talk to out of need rather than want; to ask directions, to help with a problem, big or small but never some one who would stay within a person's mind, never did she think of herself as someone that would impact a life or anything remotely close to that. She had some friends but they were living their own life - each one of them taking the world by storm and she was left, sitting in the mess that the hurracaine left behind.

Her life, to her, was boring; she lived in a small one bedroom apartment and worked in a little cafe as a waitress. She had dreams, big ones too but it is one thing dreaming and another actually doing and that was where her problem was; she could dream, dream until she was blue in the face but something always seemed to hold her back when she went to try and accomplish the dream and she had no idea what.

She used to be full of energy; a free spirit; the life of a party but when highschool ended and reality began, it seemed to have been sucked out of her.

And now, she seems so lifeless that those who know her, worry.

So, just like every other day of the week, except Sunday, she was at work - taking orders; it seemed ironic really, to think that _that_ was all she was good for.

The bell above the door jingled and she made her way to the young couple that had just sat down; the sight nauseating her. They were oblivious to her sudden appearance and were, in non-explicit terms, all over each other. They boy's hand was currently making its way up the girls skirt while the girls tongue was currently making its way into the boys mouth.

Brooke gagged involuntarily and the duo looked up at her.

_Prude,_ the girl thought and Brooke clenched her jaw.

Turning her head, she directed her attention to the boy whose thought made her more than angry.

_Damn,_ he thought suggestively as he let his eyes wander down her body, _What I wouldn't give for a go of that!_

She shook her head, glaring at him with fiercly angry eyes before simply taking in a deep breath and doing the job that she was paid to do and had been doing for the past three and a half years.

"What would you like?" She asked as politely as she could.

_I know what I want,_ the boy grinned, flashing a not-so-charming set of teeth and Brooke took in another array of deep breaths, trying to block it out.

"We'll just have a batch of pancakes and two coffees, thanks." _Bitch! _The young girl responded, seemingly aware of her boyfriends sudden perkiness towards Brooke.

_from up here the city lights burn_

_like a thousand miles of fire_

_and I'm here to sing this anthem_

_of our dying day_

"Coming right up," she responded, cheerily; faking her enthusiasm.

She walked back to the counter and moved behind it, placing the order into the chef's hands. He took it willingly but failed to look at her and she sighed; it was consious - she had been sighing everyday for the past 1095 days, each and every one dragging slower than the previous.

For the first six months she thought that it was just temporary; just to get herself a nice little sum of cash to help her get to where she wanted to be but with the college classes that she was taking at Tree Hill Community College and trying to keep herself afloat, it just all got too hard and she had to quit college and move into a smaller apartment.

It wasn't choice; she was evicted.

Despite the fact the she knew it was coming, what with her gift, she seemed to have been living with a small case of denial and didn't believe it until a notice was posted through her letterbox and then, the big, red bold letters - NOTICE OF EVICTION (Leave within 24 hours) - was definitely hard to ignore. So, and despite the protests of her friends telling her they would help, she packed up and moved on.

Literally and figuratively.

It seemed as thought her friends weren't neccessarily friends anymore, rather aquaintances so when her life took a drastic shift, she pushed them away completely. She knew that it may have been harsh but with their unspoken pity and saddened eyes everytime they were around her, it all piled up and pushing was easier than pulling.

She knew that her life was a far cry from luxurious and she knew that everyone else thought and knew it too but she was a fighter and there was no way she was going to give up. She may be living a life fit only for a homeless person but that didn't matter because Brooke Davis never quit.

And she may be poor but she was still Brooke Davis.

_for a second I wish the tide_

_would swallow every inch of this city_

_as you gasp for air tonight_

_I'd scream this song right in your face_

_--_

_if you were here_ _I swear _

_I won't miss a beat_

_cause I never_ _never have before_

Standing on the edge of the cliff, the brunette stared ahead at the vast ocean; the dark of night making the deep waters as black as the sky. Her breaths came out in quick pants as her feet shifted forward and she closed her eyes in suspense.

Despite the fact that she knew there was no one from society around her, thoughts still swirled around her mind and all she wanted was for them to just disappear and when her eyes re-opened the clashing waves fiercly hitting the rocks never looked so inviting.

_Jump! _

_Jump!_

She shook her head vigourously and unconciously took another step forward; making her dangerously close to going off the edge but when a swifting wind swept from behind her, edgeing her forward some more, fear crept up her spine and her body envoloped in goosebumps; her hairs standing on end.

Did she want this?

Not so long ago, four hours to be precise, she was telling herself that Brooke Davis didn't quit, that she never gave up and yet, there she stood, standing on a cliff that, if she were to take another step, she would surely be plummeting to her death; she would be giving up.

_Just jump!_

"Shut up!" She screamed into the silence, "Just shut up!"

No one replied.

_from up here the city lights burn_

_like a thousand miles of fire_

_and I'm here to sing this anthem_

_of our dying day_

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to evade the memories, the voices, just everything out of her mind and yet the effort was futile because they just kept coming. The memories, grief-filled and joyous, all caused a dull pain in her heart and the voices annoyed her to no end.

Her trust was non-existant because she could just hear what people, mostly guys, wanted from her and she knew, as soon as _it_ started, she was alone.

The world was a big place, massive and she wished that she could just float away, to a far away place and live there, in seclusion and with peace because even though she would be alone in body, she didn't care because she would be alone in her mind and that was the one thing she wished for more than anything.

Or the other option was to go to sleep forever because in her sleep, her mind only consisted of _her_ dreams and _her_ thoughts but there was only one way to go to sleep forever.

Only one way to leave the world.

_of our dying day_

_of our dying day_

_of our dying_

Death.

_for a second I wish the tide_

_would swallow every inch of this city_

_and you gasp for air tonight_

She cringed as the word loomed to the front her mind and maybe she didn't want it but she felt like she needed it. The feeling of disappearing into peace and bliss for the rest of eternity was far too tempting, especially because what was waiting for her tomorrow was grease and orders and insanely rude thoughts.

It was all too suffocating and she wanted to just breath so badly that her lungs seemed to constrict and it was too difficult and everytime she thought she was going to suffocate to death, she wished that there was some one there, calming her with soothing words and soft hands and kisses.

But there wasn't because she was alone; remember?

She lifted her eyes back to the ocean and time must have moved swiftly because she could see the sun peeking over the horizon; its reds and oranges colouring the dark water and if it was inviting before then what it was now made her itch to jump.

_Jump!_

"Leave me alone," she whispered, painfully.

One foot forward..._1_

"Please."

Bracing herself, she took a deep breath..._2_

_of our dying day_

_of our dying day_

_of our dying_

And tripped.

* * *

**A/N: **So there is the first chapter. It's very Brooke centred because it's basically an introduction chapter but the next chapter will definitely have more interaction and maybe even some Julian. I really hope you enjoy and if it's not too much trouble, I would be really grateful if you reviewed the story.

- undiscoveredwriter


	2. Into Dust

**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Tree Hill - or any other show mentioned.

**A/N: **The title of this chapter is a song by Mazzy Star.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_**Into Dust**_

_still falling_

_breathless and on again_

_inside today_

_beside me today_

_a round broken in two_

_'til your eyes shed into dust_

_like two strangers turning into dust_

_'til my hand shook the way I fear_

And she tripped.

Falling and falling and falling into the blackhole of thrashing waters and solid, stone rocks. Her screams went unheard and her flailing arms did nothing to stop the falling. She was going to hit the dark abyss below her and it was going to swallow her whole; swallow her without a seconds thought.

It was then that she realised the saying "just before you die, you life flashes before your eyes" was true and the falling seemed to slow and her life played out in her mind; the memories and voices playing out like a movie - and it wasn't one that she particularly enjoyed.

The array of people, mostly boys; memories of unprecedented actions, both legal and illegal; the rich price of truth spilling out, causing a number of heart-wrenching and painful consequences, all showing her that her life was far from fairytale and she was no princess.

And she kept falling.

When she was standing on the edge of the cliff, it seemed like a simple drop; edge to water, no in between but, and obviously despite her thoughts, there was _a lot_ in between and it seemed that before death, you had to face everything that you had done in life.

Both right and wrong; and her's were mostly wrong.

And then, she hit the water; feet first and no deep breath.

The freeze of the dark liquid was like daggers on her skin, piercing and harsh and her breathing shallowed when a rush of water lashed out across her face. The waves crashed from all around her, hitting her and pushing her and she would have been surprised that she didn't hit the rocks, if she had time to register it.

A large waved thrashed against one of the rocks and the under-current took her below the surface of the water, pulling her away from everything above; it pulled her away from reality and that was the one thing that she had vied for all her life - or since her gift started - and she had it.

It was a weird feeling because beneath the harsh waters and actually in the blackhole, it was so different. There was no falling, no thrashing waters and no voices; it was silent, enabling the drop of a pin to be heard and she let herself float away - and down - further into the abyss that she knew was swallowing her whole.

And she closed her eyes and let the silence and peace engulf her.

Until, all of a sudden, there was a contricting feeling in her throat and she couldn't breath or feel or see and it just kept getting tighter and tighter and she tried to scream but nothing came out and she tried to grip onto something, just to pull her back to the surface, but there was nothing there.

So she gave up.

And stopped fighting; closing her eyes and not seeing the shadow approach her in the waters.

She just _stopped_.

_I could possibly be fading_

_or have something more to gain_

_I could feel myself growing colder_

_I could feel myself under your face_ _under...your face_

Breathless, she shot up into a seating position, startled and disorientated.

Her body was covered in a thick layer of cold sweat and she blinked a few times before looking around her small bedroom. Her eyes sought out anything familiar and when she came into view of an all-too-familar photo, she knew that she was safe - or as safe as can be - in her own apartment.

The photo was of herself, Haley, Nathan, Lucas, Peyton; reminding her of the glory days of highschool and she scoffed lightly at the thought - there was nothing _glorious _about her highschool experience. In fact, as she remembered, it was like a large serving of pain and grief and sadness with only a side order of happiness.

She cringed at her negativity.

However, that was how she operated; she had become a negative, pessimistic, almost shell of herself, version of what she used to be. She hated what she had become, of course she did but, to her, there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say, to get back to what she once was.

A breeze of wind swifted through her bedroom and an array of goosebumps developed along her skin as the coolness hit her skin. She rubbed her left hand along her right arm, trying to add some warmth to her body and frowned what she saw that there was no way of wind entering her house.

She hesitantly climbed out of bed and crept towards her bedroom door, opening it only a small amount. Taking a deep breath, she turned and peaked through the gap that she had just made in the door but frowned again when she saw nothing so and opening the door completely, she walked through it and trudged into the living/kitchen part of the small apartment (**A/N:** Think her apartment in season 3; Naley's old apartment).

Flipping the light switch, she moved into the kitchen and proceeded to make herself a bowl of cereal. She put some Cap'n Crunch into a bowl and added a load of milk to them before digging her spoon into the food and putting some into her mouth. Her eyes shifted between the front door and the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of any reason for the sudden gusts of air.

Suddenly feeling anxious - and no one particularly wants that in their home - she placed the bowl of cereal on the counter top and walked towards the front door, latching ono the handle and swinging it open; bracing herself for what she expected to be a fierce gust of wind but nothing came.

Nothing at all.

There was no swifting gust of wind; no light breeze swirling through; there was just nothing.

She walked out of the door and moved to the balcony edge to look over it, trying to find a sign of anything or anyone that could have been there but again, there was nothing.

Frowning, she proceeded to look left-to-right until there was suddenly a pain behind her eyes and she trudged back into the apartment.

_Weird?_

Definitely.

_it was you_

_breathless and torn_

_I could feel my eyes turning into dust_

_and two strangers turning into dust_

_turning into dust._

--

_still falling_

_breathless and on again_

_inside today_

_beside me today_

Flipping the page to the magazine, she stared blankly at the pointless writing on the spread.

The pointlessness coming from the malicious and harsh gossip that filled the entity of it and trying to understand why someone could write such evil things was beyond her understanding and, against her best wishes, she let her eyes scan over the heading again.

_'Nathan Scott Scoring More Than Baskets? (And his wife is nowhere to be seen)'_

The picture was of Nathan with his arm wrapped around a blond girl - who looked a little more than trashy - and if anyone had more than half a brain then they would see that the picture was completely innocent because, if people are honest, Nathan Scott gets asked to take a lot of pictures; does that mean he's sleeping with them?

Brooke sighed, thinking of how Haley was dealing with it, and turned the page again.

Her heart went out to her friend, it really did but no matter how much pity she silently had for Haley, she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone and call her because she felt more pity towards herself and even though that made her cringe and ache and _feel_ pain, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

She shut the magazine completely and threw it to the side of her before inhaling a deep breath and taking in the view of the cafe from her seat on the counter top. There was a number of people in the place, some with a friend and others by themselves but it wasn't all that busy.

Looking at the two girls who had just sat down, she let herself feel the growing sentiment of jealousy as she strained her ears to listen to their giggling and just generally basking in eachothers merriment but her ill-fated envy was cut short when the bell above the door chimed.

And she heard nothing.

Feeling the curiosty rising, she turned to look at the door and there, stood, was a man, around 6ft 3in tall, with a hooded sweater covering his facial features but her curiosty was still peaked as not a single feeling or thought leaked from the mystery man's mind.

His eyes lifted, meeting hers in an unbreakable gaze and she felt as if her legs were going to give way as she stared in his beautiful, golden-coloured eyes. Daring to blink, she did and moved her eyes away from the stranger as he made his way to a table at the very back of the cafe.

_Not me, not me, please not me, _she begged mentally.

"Brooke," a voice called and she turned to look at her boss, Jerry, "Table 15. Now."

"Right on it," she told him, faking her smile. Again.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it, _she thought bitterly, cursing her bad luck.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself slightly and made her way over to where the mystery stranger had taken a seat. As she arrived at the table, she noticed him looking through the menu but looked up as soon as her presence reached him. Her breath hitched in her throat as his eyes pierced her soul and then, as if someone was playing the drums on her heart to an accelerated song, the beating sped up when he did something she wasn't expecting.

_a round broken in two_

_'til your eyes shed into dust_

_like two strangers turning into dust_

_'til my hand shook the way I fear_

He grinned.

The feeling she got was overwhelming. It was like someone had suddenly pressed fast forward on the irratic drums and the pace of the beating was almost dangerous; like someone had turned the heat up making her hands clammy with a layer of moisture and causing a light dew to form on the back of her neck; like someone had shoved something, sharp and hot, fiercly down her throat, constricting all breath and voice.

Her fingers tightened around the small booklet in her hand and she swallowed, hard before attempting to squeak out a conversation.

"What can I get you?" She choked and the tightening in her knuckles grew.

"I'll just have a coffee, please," he told her in a voice that sounded nothing short of perfection, and rang, like an unforgetable song, in her mind.

"That all?" She questioned, suddenly reluctant to leave the table.

"For now," he answered, understanding that she didn't catch the double meaning in his words but she would before grinning again.

Unable to speak, she smiled tightly and swiftly moved away from him and taking care of his order. As she began to pour the contents of his request into the cup, she suddenly felt her mind wander and for once, her day dreams weren't interrupted by the incessant voices all around her.

Realising that her nervousness had somehow prohibited her admiration of the beautiful man sitting no more than 6 or 7 yards away from her, she brought a picture of him up in her head. His face, to her, was a cross between a perfect male model and a Greek God, sent from the heavens yet the angelic-ness of his features were strengthened by his chiseled jaw and charming grin.

His eyes were mesmerising, enchanting and she felt very _naked _in front of him; the golden orbs seemingly looking straight into her soul and bearing all her feelings - the ones that she had nightmares about and the ones that she had kept hidden for so long.

This beautiful stranger with his rough-around-the-edges presence, who she knew nothing about and could not fathom why her _abilities_ did not work on, intrigued her and the curious, yet animatedly stupid, part of her wanted, and needed, to know more.

She picked up the cup and it's scolding contents created a line of fogged steam to stream out of the top. She handled it carefully - or as carefully as her racing heart allowed - and proceeded back towards the table where the stranger, who had sent her heart of like a helicopter propeller, sat.

Reaching the table, she avoided eye contact and placed the cup down. As soon as the cup was set down, she went to walk away but his rough, throaty voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone deep with concern and she silently wondered where the concern was coming from.

She turned around and looked him dead in the eye, and for once, trying to get the thoughts out of his head.

"I'm fine," she replied, stiffly; clenching her jaw.

"Are you sure?" He questioned, warily; his words coming out with a southern drawl, "Because someone who jumps off a cliff isn't what I would call _fine_."

_I could possibly be fading_

_or have something more to gain_

_I could feel myself growing colder_

_I could feel myself under your face_ _under...your face_

She froze.

And didn't move a single muscle.

Thoughts swarmed through her mind as she tried to grasp how in the _hell _he knew that because she didn't even really believe it herself and it was only the nightmares she had that showed her that it did happen and that it was real and that the pain was there. It was like she had been punched in the gut and that overwhelming pain that she had kept hidden, flooded out of her eyes and streamed into him, causing him to feel it too.

He frowned ever-so-slightly when he felt the vast emotion hit him and he didn't know whether to stand and help her or stay out of it but there was something in her eyes, something about her smile and her smell and just everything about her that drew him in like a moth to a flame and he, too, wanted to know more.

"Brooke, I think you should it down," he suggested to her, politely.

Her head snapped up and she looked at him with wide eyes.

"How do you know my name?" She asked harshly; the shocked look on her face turning into a glare.

"Uhm, it's on your name tag," he told her as his eyes shifted from her face to the name tag that sat on her chest and then to her face again.

"Oh..." she stated and looked almost embarrassed, "I'm sorry for snapping. Occupational hazzard," she joked lightly with a small smile but frowned when she didn't receive any laugh in return.

"You shouldn't joke too much, not when you're suicidal," he said, almost saying it in a harsh tone but he tried to keep his anger down, knowing the consequences wouldn't be pleasant.

"I'm not suicidal," she spat and turned away from him.

"Oh, okay, you were just going for a midnight swim then, right?" He questioned, sarcastically and she spun around to glare at him.

"Okay, let's say for arguments sake I am suicidal; what the hell has it got to do with you?" She asked, angrily, inching closer towards him.

A few of the customers seemed to have heard the commotion and were craning their necks and looking up from their magazine or newspaper to see what was going on.

Brooke, noticing this, cringed inwardly and wished that she hadn't of took the bait and reacted towards his question.

She waited for his answer, that was taking longer than she had expected, and let her eyes stray away from him and across the room. Many peoples eyes shifted between what they were doing and then towards Brooke, causing her to wince at her lack of self-control but he seemed to stir something within her and just did not know why.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the nameless man that had made her intrigued yet angry beyond belief and raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"I'm sorry if you feel I have overstepped the line but it would concern anyone if they had seen that particular sight," he answered with a reserved tone before pulling out his wallet.

"Uh..." she stuttered and stood, rooted to the ground, shock radiating to her very core.

"I best be leaving now," he told her and dropped a note on the table, "I'm sorry for causing you distress...Brooke."

And before she had chance to do anything, his body was half-way out the door and when she had time to blink, he was gone altogether. She didn't know what it was about this man who had just shown up out of the blue and knew one her deepest, darkest secrets but there something that made her ache to be near him again.

Her mind flourished and brightened at the mere hope that she would get to see his flawless face and charming grin again and her ears seemed to ache to hear his throaty voice but it was one particular thing that stood out the most. When he said her name before he left, he said it with a softness and a concern that made it seem like he had being saying her name for years.

She hoped she would hear him say it again.

_it was you_

_breathless and torn_

_I could feel my eyes turning into dust_

_and two strangers turning into dust_

_turning into dust._

--

_still falling_

_breathless and on again_

_inside today_

_beside me today_

Brooke clenched her eyes shut as the thought of him crossed her mind again.

Everytime she blinked, moved, looked; just anything, he was there, on her mind and she didn't know if she should be pulling her hair out at the constant thought or be grateful for the fact that when ever he was on her mind, the mumbling of voices that infiltrated the space between her ears, disappeared.

She didn't know what it was that prevented his thoughts from seeping out of his head and into hers but it was calming and quiet and _different _and she hadn't had silence surrounding her since she was a little girl. To her, there was something peaceful yet remarkably dangerous about him and she just had to see him again.

Taking a wet dish cloth to the surface, she wiped the ring stains away and moved to the next table; the mundane task nearly sending her to sleep but she needed the job and she needed the money so she endured it - bearly - just like pretty much everything else in her life.

"Brooke!"

She spun around at the sound of her name and there stood Jerry, her lazy yet demanding incompetent boss.

"Yeah?" She questioned meakly; knowing that the last girl who went up against him somehow couldn't get a job within a 30 mile radius.

"You can get off now if you like, the rush has died down and Mary can shut up shop," he told her and she paused for a second, frozen with disbelief.

She couldn't remember a time when Jerry had let anyone off early; let alone just for the sake of it.

"Sure, thanks, Jerry," she said, showing her gratitude.

"No problem," he smiled and she turned away, "And Brooke?" He called out, causing her to spin back around.

"Hmm?" She murmured with a small smile.

"Be careful," he warned; his tone laced with a serious concern.

She frowned but nodded anyway silently telling him that she would do as he said. It just seemed strange to her that she had been working there for round about three years and he had yet to ask her how she was or what she had been up to but then all of a sudden, when there was a shift in her mood, he was there, _asking _her things.

It was a very surreal feeling to have people care but she only felt the need to show her gratitude to one person and that one person was a complete mystery; a stranger that wandered into her life and then simply walked back out, not even dropping his name.

Grabbing her coat and purse, she wrapped herself up and walked out of the cafe. As she swung the door open, a fierce wind came into contact with her soft skin and she winced slightly at the harshness of it. Shuddering from the sudden cold, she proceeded out of the door and down the steps. She stuffed her hands in to her coat pockets as she waited for a cab (her car was currently out of commission) and that's when she saw him again.

_a round broken in two_

_'til your eyes shed into dust_

_like two strangers turning into dust_

_'til my hand shook the way I fear_

He was standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a sleak, black car, which had a make that she couldn't quite work out due to the lack of light and she didn't know if she was seeing things but she was adamant that he was looking at her; staring at her.

After witnessing a taxi pull up on the other side of the road, she shifted her eyeline towards the pavement and made her way over to where the yellow vehicle was stationed. Her footsteps were slow and she dragged her feet across the blackened floor; almost as if the weight she was carrying was literal.

Her mind was pondering and she was in too much of a daze to notice the on coming danger until she heard the screech of brakes protesting against metal and the sound of rubber in a conflicted conversation with tarmac and her head shot up in an instant.

The bright lights shone, blindingly, into her eyes and she acknowledged the fact that there was a car, driving straight at her at full speed, but she couldn't move - or run - or even blink. She was sure that she would be knocking on death's door and then she felt the collision.

It knocked the wind of her but there was no pain and for a second, she wondered if she was already dead because of the cold that surrounded her but then she looked up and saw honey-laced eyes staring down at her with a horrified look in them.

She took a minute to regain her breath before taking in the damage around her. The car that nearly killed her had skidded to an awkward looking stop about a hundred yards from where she was and there was a small gathering of people surrounding it but the thing that made no sense was that she was fine, in one piece and _alive_.

With her breathing coming out in quiet pants, she turned to look at him again and the horrified expression was still there, replicating her look, but then he unravelled his arms from around her and took a seat on the sidewalk beside her.

"You know, you should be more careful when you're crossing the road, you never know what's around the corner," he said in a pained voice.

"Well I guess I'll just have to hope there's a mysterious stranger there to come in and save me," she said mockingly but there was no humour in her look, or tone.

"You don't seem like the type of person who has a lot of _hope_," he told her as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah and you don't seem like the type of person who would save some hapless girl from what I'm guessing was fate but here we are," she sai, bitterly; almost resentful towards him for saving her.

"If it was fate, you would have died," he said in matter-of-fact tone before chuckling to himself.

"And what is so funny, Mr. Stranger?"

"My name's Julian Baker and you, Brooke, are what is funny," he grinned and she glared at him.

"And what, might I ask, is funny about me?" She asked, harshly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What's funny is that," he paused to look at her, "you still believe that fate somehow has a plan of death for you when you've already beaten it _twice_, so I guess what's funny is that you still believe that you're meant to die."

"Everyone dies eventually," she reminded him.

"Not everyone, sweatheart."

She looked at him confused before thinking over his words and when she came to the conclusion that she had no idea what he was going on about, she turned and looked him deep in the eyes, his beautiful, golden coloured eyes, and questioned him with her own.

"What do you mean?" She questioned, confused.

"I mean," he stopped for a moment and his face became shadowed with a look of contemplation, like he was thinking of something very important but the moment it appeared, it disappeared within seconds, "I mean everyone's spirit lives on, that's what I mean."

"That's the dorkiest thing I have ever heard," she stated and he looked at her shocked before she started giggling.

_I could possibly be fading_

_or have something more to gain_

_I could feel myself growing colder_

_I could feel myself under your face_ _under...your face_

The sound of her laugh sent a million shivers around his body and the twinkle that suddenly appeared in her eyes made his non-existant breath hitch in his throat. He found that he was slowly but surely immersing himself within her aura and presence and he knew that, if not for his sanity but her safety, he had to stop. And soon.

But as the beautiful sound died down, he found himself wanting to make her laugh again, and again until her body ached from laughing so much and he wanted to be the one to make her smile, make her giggle and jump with joy; he wanted to make her _happy._

"I've been known to come out with some pretty ridiculous things," he commented, grinning.

"_Pretty _ridiculous?" She laughed, loudly, "Dude, that was terrible," she said, jokingly.

She throw her head back to laugh again but her body went too far back, causing her to fall backwards but before she could hit the floor, she grabbed his hand and pulled herself back up. Once she had herself back into an upright position, her mind registered the fact that his hand was as cold as if he had stuck it into a bucket of ice. She looked up to his face and noticed he was staring at her hand on his with an unusual look so she quckly retracted her hand.

Looking outwards, she swallowed, hard, and wondered why his hand was so cold and suddenly an array of images were in her head.

Her jumping off the cliff but survivng...golden coloured eyes...him saving her from the car...his ice cold hand.

She suddenly started hyperventilating but didn't really know what conclusion she had come to.

"Brooke," he said, worriedly, "Brooke are you okay?" He asked and put a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off and scrambled to her feet.

"Stay away from me," she screamed.

And then she ran.

_it was you_

_breathless and torn_

_I could feel my eyes turning into dust_

_and two strangers turning into dust_

_turning into dust._

* * *

**A/N: **Well there is the next chapter, folks. I know that it took a while but there you go and I hope that you enjoy it.

-undiscoveredwriter


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